


Fear and Envy

by Pale Rider (Boothros)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:04:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boothros/pseuds/Pale%20Rider





	Fear and Envy

It was just another kick off, just another punk getting his stupid head kicked in on a wet London street.

They just didn’t learn, these kids, that alcohol, bravado and immaturity didn’t mix and never would.

Coming straight from a jungle full of hate, it was easy for me to say. Without a penny in my pocket, I still felt a rich man at escaping that hell and walking on the relative easy street of The Strand.

For once, I chose to glance down at the fallen one before looking more closely.

He didn’t appear to be pissed or drugged, in fact he was beautiful. I suddenly realised there was more to his kicking than simple mindlessness. Thugs had beat on this one through fear and envy.

Six upon one was no fair fight. Fear had brought numbers and envy had fuelled them. Never would they be as brave or lovely as him and well they knew it.

I could have left him knowing full well he’d survive. The looks he possessed would carry him easily enough through life. In a heartbeat however I knew I never could. The looks that had so enraged his jealous attackers, drew me like a moth to a flame.

It was a risk picking up a punk off the street, but one I couldn’t help but take.

I reached out my hand to him.

“The names, Bodie. Come along for the ride if you want.”

He looked at me speculatively, his bleeding mouth obviously hurting him.

“Make the ride worth it and I _might_ just consider it.”

I pulled him to his feet, knowing that if he didn’t follow I would chase him forever.

Fortunately, he chose to accompany me happily enough, his strong grip on my hand telling me he was no pushover.

Wondering just what the hell I’d let myself in for I carried on along The Strand apparently without a care in the world.

At last he spoke again, calming my thudding heart,

“The name’s Doyle by the way, Ray Doyle.

 


End file.
